Retroactive Coda
by SidEffect
Summary: A series of monologues, as a character comes to a closure and muses on what have come to pass, and how it came to be.[Oneshot in two parts]
1. Chapter 1: Ending the loop

Retroactive Coda

By SidEffect

Disclaimer: Characters and settings mentioned herein do not belong to me. They are  
property of their corresponding owner, in this case J.K.Rowling.

Summary: Near the end of book six, Dumbledore muses on what have what has  
come to pass, and how it came to be.Oneshot

Spoilers: Up to and including Book 6.

Tomorrow will be the day he had expected for so long. Dumbledore knew it would be  
coming soon - just not when - and he did his best to have everything in place,  
everything prepared. His only concern was young Harry; had he taught him enough?  
Had he imparted on him everything that was needed... or had he forgotten  
something?

"Hmm," he mused to himself. "Let me see... Voldemort origins, Horcruxes, the  
weight of responsibilities and the light of hope, the price of failure and the joy of  
success, the heartache of betrayal and the happiness of friendship... It seems to be  
all there."

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged at last, though. He had really hoped to make those  
lessens less painful, to buffer Harry's sufferings at least a little. But he wasn't able  
to; not in the slightest, and this pained him greatly. He knew that it was more of a  
fault of his memory, or rather the lack of, than of his personal actions; but that  
didn't ease his conscience much.

Worries took hold of him again as he though of how his memory had begun to fail in  
recent years. Oh, the major and the recent events where still there... He still  
remembered the day of Voldemort's first defeat, the sorrow he felt for Potter family,  
and the guilty feeling of relief for the brief respite that the world had received that  
day. He remembered his last battle with Grindelwald; while nothing in comparison to  
one he fought with Voldemort, the memory of battle was still there, as well as that of  
the price of the victory.

Dumbledore rubbed his eyes as the ghost of the pain shot through them.  
Grindelwald's last spell almost burned him alive. Indeed, he was very lucky to have  
received help so fast that day; that one of his pupils had arrived was nigh a miracle.  
After all, not many people survived being hit by that kind of spell; let alone in the  
face.

No, that was not the problem. He remembered all of this very well, even as far back  
as that accident all the way back. It was remembering small details from before that  
gave him problems, like what day of the week Sirius died, in which graveyard  
Voldemort was resurrected, who brought the diary Horcrux to Hogwarts and even  
when Quirrell began to behave oddly.

But he had to concede, in his two centuries (one and a half since that accident with  
the time turner), it was expected. He just wished that he still recalled those small  
details...

Dumbledore looked up from where he sat; the clock was already showing half past  
midnight. His musing and reminiscing was taking far too long. With a sigh, he got  
up; time was short, and he still had so much to do before setting off for his new  
journey ahead.

As he walked he mused about this great adventure, as it was coming to the close as  
did the one before it... though not as suddenly and there were no unexpected  
accidents this time. This time it was the end of a well known adventure, the closing  
chapter of the book he had already read once.

Passing a mirror, a quick glance of the reflection stopped him for a second. He really  
wished that the healing spell hadn't changed the color of his eyes during the repair of  
his face. He really liked that shade of green, but then again he couldn't complain.  
Grindelwald was dead, he was alive, and, after all, that damn scar was gone.

A.N.:Well, here is a my first attempt at fanfiction. Also special thanks goes to:  
Speckling for the help provided.


	2. Chapter 2:Tempus Infinitum

Disclaimer: Characters and settings mentioned herein do not belong to me. They are  
property of their corresponding owner, in this case J.K.Rowling.

Harry Potter, the boy-- well, more like the man-who-lived now -- sat down wearily,  
mentally reassessing the events that have transpired in the last ten seconds. It felt like  
years already, even dozens have passed since; though the clock showed that only five  
seconds passed.

Ten seconds ago, he had finally discovered the power he needed to fulfill his destiny.  
Five seconds ago, he had finally accomplished what was foretold prior to his birth. It was  
then that Voldimort, his nemesis ever since that fateful Halloween, had ceased to exist.

He though back to how it had began; experimenting with time turner when he was  
eighteen years old. "Not my brightest moment," he admitted to himself as he observed the  
old hourglass-shaped scar on his hand. It served as reminder about carelessness. He was  
lucky that he still had his arm, scarred as it was, after the artifact had melted and  
exploded in his hand. That was where it all really started - that was when he paid his  
price. He didn't regret it, though that didn't make it any easier to cope with.

What followed were excruciating, lengthy years. It was not easy... the journey was long-  
winded and tedious in taking its heavy toll on him. He though that it would take him an  
eternity to collect everything and set it into place, especially in his current condition.  
Even more, he had to do it all on his own; after all no one would - or for that matter could  
- help him. Even simple contraptions such as cars or Hogwart's moving stairs would not  
work for him anymore. He was totally and absolutely on his own. The only thing that  
kept him going was his single goal; and he pursued it, almost to the point of single  
minded obsession.  
But none of that mattered anymore, for he had finally done it - even if it took him all  
those five seconds of real time to accomplish. Old Mr. Riddle had no idea what hit him.

His only regret about the whole ordeal was that he would not to be able to see his friends  
anymore... Well, that was not exactly true - he could see them all he wanted, they were  
simply unable to do likewise... or even notice him, for that matter. He didn't blame them,  
either - after all, it all was his own fault; and there was nothing that they would be able to  
do about it.

After all that, the only thing that remained was to decide on what to do with his  
remaining time in this peculiar solitude; how to keep the boredom at bay, in fear that it  
could grow into insanity if left to go on for too long. It was not a hard decision.

"Now, then back to the time turner research, " Harry said to himself, clasping his hands  
on his knees for support as he got up from his chair.

Only so much time could be wasted recalling his younger years. Well, relatively young -  
he was around 68 back then... But then again, in comparison with 118, it was young.

He looked around at the faces of his friends and teachers - frozen, almost unmoving, still  
the same as when it all began a hundred years ago. After all, for them only ten seconds  
has passed - he was only one in the world for whom those ten seconds had stretched into  
a century.

A.N.: Well here is the second part. Originally it was going to be an independent oneshot,  
but somewhere along the way it turned into a tie in, expanding on the first one. I have a  
general notion of the last one, but it still lacking a suitable twist, so it may take a while, if  
ever. Again, gratitude goes to my proofreader for help provided, and everyone for reading  
this.


End file.
